


Nothing Takes the Taste Out of Peanut Butter (Quite Like Unrequited Love)

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, one sided Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’m your what?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“My mate.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Takes the Taste Out of Peanut Butter (Quite Like Unrequited Love)

**Author's Note:**

> Lots and lots and lots of Derek angst.

“Derek—I— _what_?”

Derek, to be fair, looks as uncomfortable as Stiles sounds. “I. You deserved to know.”

Stiles makes a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “I’m actually almost positive I could’ve lived without knowing that.”

Derek makes his won upset sound. “I  _had_  to tell you. You don’t understand what—what the wolf gets like. It doesn’t understand.”

_It’s just an animal._

Stiles nods jerkily and his voice wavers. “Right. Well. You know, though. That I. I don’t. You know.”

“I know.” Derek says, and he sounds almost relieved. “But. If I didn’t tell you.” Derek swallows uneasily. “I don’t know what I would’ve done. What the wolf would’ve made me do.”

Stiles nods again. “Right, yeah, it’s. Instinct, is all. That’s it.”

Derek grunts in agreement.

Stiles, though, begins to ramble because he feels the itching of a panic attack rising up his spine. “I mean, you and I—we barely tolerate each other half the time, and I really, really love Isaac. I mean, okay, this really sucks because I’m not his, y’know. Mate. But I love him and I don’t think that will ever change—and besides, you don’t love me, right? You barely stand me. I’m not sure why you keep me around.”

Derek stiffens. “You know you’re worth more than most people.”

Stiles grins sheepishly, though an awkward tension still hangs in the air. “Thanks, Sourwolf.” He claps a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “So, uh, big awkward and completely useless revelation aside, we’re cool, right? I mean, you’re gonna be okay?”

Derek can’t meet Stiles’ eyes. He can’t flick his gaze to see straight into the expressive, animated amber eyes of his  _mate_. The only person for him, as far as he can feel. “I’ll be fine.” He growls, though it threatens to crack and come off as a pitiful croak.

Stiles nods, and bites his lip. “See you around, dude.” He awkwardly pats Derek’s shoulder again, before hurrying out to the front lawn. Back to the pack, back to Isaac—whom he loves, who loves him back. Stiles may be Derek’s mate, but that doesn’t mean Stiles has to be with him.

As the front door shuts with a soft click, Derek feels as though he’s watching the red string snap, crumple to the floor with nothing left to hold on to. His wolf and heart, in tandem, recognize it and his wolf howls and his heart seems ready to simply stop. Derek knows it’s irrational, he knew Stiles wouldn’t, couldn’t, has never liked him that way, and Derek regrets telling him, regrets confronting the feelings in the first place.

Consumed by instinct, Derek hates the vulnerability seeping in through his skin, taking hold of him and setting his veins on fire. He feels ashamed, he feels like a piece of him is gone forever. He’s heard of werewolves dying of grief when their mate died, but somehow he thinks this might be worse.

He hears Stiles’ laugh followed by the soft wet sound of him kissing Isaac, and decides that this is infinitely worse. Because he’s the alpha and that means he has to be stronger than this. He has to swallow his heart pouring out of his chest and the bile rising in his throat, and instead care for his beta and his beta’s lover.

And, with that thought in mind, Derek boxes up his heart and tucks it aside, deep inside. He tucks away the injured and fragile thing that has never seemed to heal properly, and resolves himself to a loveless life. He thinks, idly and with foreign tears pricking at his eyes, that this builds character and builds strength. He thinks that he’s dealt with loss before, so what’s one more thing?

But as he topples onto his bed, suddenly upstairs, he feels nothing but heartbroken and weak.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Edit (11/14/12):** Due to comments I've received I would like to point out two things:  
>  1 -- I do not plan in writing another fic in this 'verse.' This drabble is singular, and was written to simply explore Derek's psyche and response to the scenario in the fic. There will never be a sequel, so please don't ask for one in your comments--I appreciate that you enjoy the idea enough to want one, but there won't be one.
> 
> 2 -- I know this is going to sound massively ungrateful, but please please please please don't mention "Sterek AND Stisaac" or "Stiles could fall in love with Derek!" in your comments. The point of this fic is that Stiles is not, has not, and will never be in love with Derek. I appreciates comments, always, and they mean a lot. But by commenting with a Sterek bias in that you're going to brush aside Stisaac or beg for a sequel with Sterek and Stisaac, it's incredibly rude and you're ignoring the point of the drabble entirely.


End file.
